Mac and Jack: Paperclip
by QuestRunner
Summary: When a mission goes sideways and a splinter group infiltrates the Phoenix Foundation, Mac and Jack step up to the plate.
1. Chapter 1

Mac fiddled with the paper clip in his hands, blindly trying to fold the delicate steel into his desired shape. The sharp end bit at his thumb as he distractedly manipulated the object. He wished Bozer was here during the debriefing, instead of back at the lab.

"Matty, these guys-"

"Are dangerous. Gold star, you just told me what I already know about hundreds of other scumbags in our case files." Matilda Webber glared blatantly at the wiry mess in his hands but chose not to comment. She had learned to accept and even utilize some of his "quirks" as she called them, although he still felt scrutinized more than the other members of the team. He spared a quick glance at the ragged paper clip. It was going…horribly. Much like the conversation with his boss now.

"With all due respect, these men-"

Matty spun on her heel and barked at the lumbering figure behind Mac.

"Jack, what is Mac babbling on about?" Jack, who'd been trying to fashion his own work of art out of a Phoenix paperclip, dropped the item with fumbling hands at the mention of his name.

"I...uh..." He looked back and forth from Mac to Matty with a sheepish grin. "What was the question? This paper clip thing is way harder than it looks-"

"JACK. Since you and your peanut sized brain decided to shut down more than usual during the last five minutes, allow me to bring you up to speed," their superior interrupted curtly. She folded her arms across her chest. "You and Mac have been tailing a splinter group for a week. I want to know why the two of you cut your detail short, blew up a roadhouse, stole an ice cream truck, and created a homemade sprinkler." When Jack studiously avoided her gaze, she added, "Well?"

"Mac is really the best storyteller. I mean, you should hear his monologues sometime. Poetic stuff," Jack said. He pulled said poet into a one armed hug that quickly turned into a forceful push as he turned Mac into a human shield between himself and his boss. "Go on, buddy, do what you do best. Here, have another paper clip." Matty slapped the offending object from Jack's hands.

"Tell me what I want to know or I'll ban paper clips from the entire building. And fashion bracelets," she added dryly. Jack jerked his right wrist protectively against his chest. "Hey, I'll have you know this is leather. Real leather!"

"...Uh, guys? We might have a problem," Riley spoke up from her coveted spot in the corner armchair. Her eyes scanned the laptop screen almost as fast as her fingers typed indecipherably on the keyboard. "This splinter cell. There were...how many of them?"

"Ten," Matty replied automatically, then tensed as she heard a nervous cough to her left. "WHAT, Mac?" The blonde avoided her gaze.

"Nine. The, uh, sprinkler took one of them out." The techie nodded, her attention fixated on the screen.

"Uh huh. And you're sure you weren't followed?"

"Hold on, missy," Jack interrupted, pushing his human shield aside for the moment. "We've been doing this gig an awful long time. I think we can lose ten—"

"Nine." Mac interjected.

"Fine. NINE baddies without any problems." Riley huffed.

"Okay...then why are nine of your 'not problems' currently ransacking Mac and Bozer's house?"


	2. Chapter 2

Jack tapped his earpiece experimentally.

"Big Mac and Black Jack are on scene, locked and loaded and ready to take this splinter cell way, way down to China town." He could hear the exasperated sigh on the other end, from one particular Matty Webber.

"It's a secured line, Jack. That means no code names. Actually, let me rephrase that: no STUPID code names."

"Ah, c'mon, senorita, meet me halfway on this," Jack persisted. He elbowed Mac, who remained crouched behind the unmarked Phoenix vehicle with a pair of binoculars in hand. "What do you think, Big Mac? It's cool, right? It could be a thing?" The blond surveyed the outside of his apartment with a sigh, allowing the binoculars to drop from his line of vision.

"No sign of forced entry, and nothing visible from the windows. They even checked the mail." The older operative rolled his eyes.

"So now these punks are turning into Martha Stewart? What's next, remodeling the kitchen?" Mac spared him a sidelong glance.

"No, it means they want to blend in. Riley, status." He ignored the groan from the man beside him.

"We agreed to call her Croco-Riles!"

"Yeah, let's NOT," Riley added through their comms. There was a brief pause as she dabbled with the keyboard. "I can trace their location to the apartment, but something's scrambling the signal."

"Well...unscramble it," Jack ordered.

"It's not like I'm working with a carton of eggs, Jack," came the sarcastic reply. The dark haired man scoffed.

"Okay, for one thing, I KNOW. I mean, you can't unscramble scrambled eggs! That's un-American! And second, it's Black Jack—" A snappish voice interrupted him mid sentence.

"I could care less if your name is Princess Consuela Banana Hammock! Your only job is to bring these criminals in for official questioning. That means no roadhouses. No ice cream trucks. And certainly no sprinklers!" Mac rifled through the pockets of his weathered jacket with purpose until he located the item of his desire. He held the paperclip aloft with a smirk.

"Don't worry. I've got something else in mind." Jack eyed the object dubiously.

"Alright, Buddy, I'm not one to doubt your improvisation brilliance. But what exactly do you hope to accomplish with one paperclip?" Mac anticipated the question and smiled.

"Not just one, Black Jack." He opened the satchel at his side and displayed hundreds of paper clips, although the vast majority seemed to be bent. His companion nearly jumped in surprise.

"Holy mackerel! Jeezus, you didn't really think Matty was serious when she said she'd take away all the paperclips at Phoenix? And even if that happens, Office Max is just around the corner—" The blond shushed his partner's gradually rising voice.

"I've been working on them for some time. They're caltrops."

"They're what whats?" Jack asked, curiosity piqued. Mac brought the binoculars up to survey his apartment once more. No movement yet.

"Caltrops are small spiked weapons typically used in warfare. They're comprised of four spikes - the base sits on three spikes with the topmost spike sticking straight up. It's purpose is to injure or slow down advancing troops." Jack pulled out one of the mangled paperclips and eyed it with distaste.

"But these aren't four sided. All you did was straighten the wire out and bend the two ends up."

"Right."

"And then you tied some sort of rock or something in the middle of each one."

"A magnet, yes."

"So, these aren't caltrops."

"Okay, not EXACTLY but it's the principle of the thing—"

"Like, these can't even stand up on their own."

"Not yet...but they WILL." Mac indicated the sparse grassy areas that barely lived up to their description of a front yard. "When Bozer and I first got this place, I dug up the lawn and placed magnet bars in rows next to the sidewalk. Once we toss these beauties out there, the magnets will attract each other and BOOM. Caltrops." Jack and Riley sat in stunned silence. Bozer, however, was not as impressed and made his reasoning clear through their comms.

"THAT'S why you dug up the yard? I thought you were just lousy at gardening!"


End file.
